


Of The Twelve Days

by magicianofesperance



Series: Chat Noir's Miraculous Atelier [4]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: 12 Days of Christmas, Adrien and Marinette Have a Picnic, Adrinette | Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Ball, Ballet, Christmas, Christmas Dinner, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, F/M, Fashion Design Student Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Fluff, Good Parent Emilie Agreste, Holidays, Ladrien | Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng as Ladybug, Ladybug volunteers in the community, Ladynoir | Adrien Agreste as Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng as Ladybug, Lovesquare, Marching Band, Marichat | Adrien Agreste as Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Orchestra, Post-Reveal Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Renaissance Faires, Swans, The Nutcracker AU, Twelve Days of Fic-mas, Wordcount: 5.000-10.000, french countryside, percussion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:00:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28047318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicianofesperance/pseuds/magicianofesperance
Summary: Inspired by the classic Christmas carol,The 12 Days of Christmas,we explore each daily gift through a different corner of the Lovesquare.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Series: Chat Noir's Miraculous Atelier [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2020100
Comments: 35
Kudos: 16





	1. Un Sole Perdrix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _On the first day of Christmas,  
>  my true love gave to me...  
> A partridge in a pear tree._

‘Twas Christmas Day, only the first day of Christmas and all through Paris, the city remained villain-free. The people, the lights, the decor- even the air had been festive. Of course, Ladybug had promised an appearance at the children’s hospital that morning. Her Santa cap still secured on her noggin, a keepsake from her earlier passing around of presents. The corners of her lips, still mildly peppered in a few cookie crumbs, flying off as she flew home on her yoyo.

The air seeped through her hair, her cap, and her soul. It was simply a divine Christmas and no one could steal this day from her. No need to worry for Hawkmoth, or any other villain for that matter. She finally could embrace the joy, comfort, and peace she had longed for since her first day as Ladybug all those years ago.

As her feet landed on the Dupain-Cheng balcony, she noticed Alya waving at her from below. No more secrets, no more lies she had to worry about any longer. All of Paris knew who Ladybug was; all of Paris knew who Chat Noir-

“Coo,” a grey bird called to her.

Ladybug raised her eyebrow. “Who are you little birdie, a gift from Xavier Ramier?” She shook it off. He wouldn’t gift her one of his pigeons, especially in such a peculiar plant. An audible gasp ensued. It wasn't a pigeon. “A partridge,” she whispered to herself.

She began eyeing the gift on her balcony up and down, trying to find anything that would hint to her how it had gotten to her. Her fingers traced the edge of the note. This was it. She gave the envelope a slight tear, reading its contents.

_ Le premier jour de Noël, _

_ mon amour m’a donné… _

_ une perdrix dans un poirier. _

Looking out to the streets of Paris, a full head of blond hair caught her attention. He flashed his classic Cheshire cat smirk. It was none other than her boyfriend, Adrien Agreste.  _ ‘The gift was from him.’ _ The intrusive thought pounded against her mind. Soon enough, the lines were blurred from her intense blush to the colour of her suit. Who's to say which was which? Rumour had it, even Ladybug couldn’t tell.

“Adrien!” Her excitement was uncontainable, nearly falling over the edge of her balcony from her frivolous waving at him.

He winked at her from down below. His feet tromped through the sidewalk and the snow. “Rapunzel, let down your yoyo!”

She half-rolled her eyes at his silly reference.  _ ‘His Chat Noir is breaking through today.’ _ Her head tilted, eyes tracing the silhouette of his face in admiration of his noble features.

The string wrapped around her finger, she yoyo’d down, the end hovering a centimetre above the ground. Adrien stepped forward, placing his feet either side of the string and when ready, gave it a tug.

She could feel the weight change and pressure through the string, but like magic, it was still only her pointer finger that was needed to hoist him up to her balcony.

Adrien winked. “Hey bugaboo.”

“You ever think of taking the stairs, Prince Charming?” She raised her eyebrow at him.

“Wouldn’t dream of it for the world,” he said. “I like surprising you like this.”

“Of course you have to be so corny about it too.” Her fingers traced against his jawline, not even paying attention to her natural momentum of leaning in.

Nor did he notice his natural reaction to take her lead.

Their chilled lips pressed against one another in an electrifying experience.

Through the light array of new falling snow, they barely took notice of down below, the people, the passerbyers, and quite notably, Alya Césaire, reporter of the Ladyblog, taking pictures of the two’s not-so-intimate moment. Pari’s most beloved icons, Adrien Agreste and Ladybug sharing a kiss on Christmas day, nonetheless? That was not a sight seen every day, nor to be taken lightly. Soon enough, social media, blogs, and tabloids across the country would reproduce the photos in one of the most heartfelt news stories of the season.


	2. The Aviary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _On the second day of Christmas,  
>  my true love gave to me...  
> Two turtledoves._

Through the winter’s midmorning light, the rooms of the Dupain-Cheng bakery gently illuminated. The floorboards down below creaked, stirring to life with people craving their breakfast pastry and morning coffee. Despite the ruckus, Marinette woke up to the sound of a high-pitched tapping on glass. It was as though something hard and sharp was knocking against her bedroom windows. Something like  _ claws. _ The thought struck her. ‘ _ Chat Noir!’ _ Cocking her head at the calendar pinned against the wall, her black hair whipped against her shoulders, the blue undertones coming out in the rays of light that penetrated her windows. It was the 26th, the second day of Christmas.

"Tikki, spots on!" A flash of red light engulfed her as she  _ jetéd _ across the room. The curtains flew, the balcony doors flew open, and her red boots stepped onto her balcony. She looked down, finding Chat Noir flung against the ground.

Chat could only grin at his preoccupied girlfriend. “What’s the rush, m’lady?” 

Ladybug blushed. “You startled me and I thought I was late-”

He reached out to her, their touch meeting in a loving warmth.

“Let’s call it  _ fashionably on-time. _ ” Chat winked. “When our  _ purr- _ esence is needed, we have got to make an entrance, y’know.”

She shook her head. “Well, being a power couple in the realm of fashion, it’s the only logical thing to expect from us, isn’t it? Besides, we aren’t even late yet, I was  _ startled. _ ”

His clawed fingers stroked through his messy locks of hair. “You know I’m just  _ kitten _ around.”

She booped his nose with the end of her finger. “Of course, kitty.”

With the cage that held the partridge in hand, they created a portal into the outskirts of the city in the countryside with the aid of Kaaliki. As they stepped out from the threshold, they looked above, glancing at the sign that read,  _ “The Parisian Aviary and Wildlife Refuge.” _

“Looks like the right place,” Chat said.

“Looks like the right man,” Ladybug said, pointing at Xavier Ramier through the window.

Xavier took notice of the magical occurrence outside his wildlife centre, opening the door.

“Wonderful, wonderful.” Xavier clapped his hands together. “Always glad to have the one and only Ladybug and Chat Noir before me, especially to visit my new aviary.”

Chat handed him the cage with the partridge within. “This was such a  _ purr- _ ty bird. Almost sad to see it go.”

“It was such a lovely surprise, honestly.” Ladybug smiled.

As Xavier took the cage from his hands, his eyes widened. “You know, I have something in the back I‘d like to show you two. I mean, if you have the time of course.”

Ladybug nodded. “We’d love to!”

“Yeah, it would be great to see the work you’ve done since we found such a great  _ purr- _ pose for passions.”

The man gleamed. “They’re two members of the pigeon family, a British variant I’m sure you might know by another name.”

Chat scratched his head as Ladybug cocked her head.

“Follow me,” Xavier said, motioning to follow him to a doorway behind the ornate desk. The hallway was dim, light only by a few wall lanterns every metre or so. The ground was made of flat cobblestones that gave the refuge an old-fashioned air.

As Xavier turned with a pair of white birds in hand, he awaited their response, anticipating their mouths to even quiver.

Ladybug stirred her wrist. “And what would be this other name, if you may?”

Xavier raised a brow. “Why, turtledoves, of course.” He handed both Ladybug and Chat Noir a turtledove. “Here, you can hold one. They were recently saved from a magician’s act gone wrong.”

Chat Noir noticed a slip of paper tied at the turtledove’s leg. He pulled it back, revealing a note.

_ Le deuxième jour de Noël,  _

_ mon amour m’a donné:  _

_ deux tourterelles… _

Chat grinned. “Did you plan this, m’lady?”

Ladybug wiggled her brows. “Perhaps.”

He took hold of her free hand. “ _ Purr- _ haps.”

Xavier gave a slight cough, catching their attention. “Would you two like to release them out into the wild? They’ve made a tremendous recovery.”

Chat Noir nodded. “That sounds  _ paw- _ some.”

Xavier chuckled. “Wonderful, then follow me through the back door.”

They stepped through an old brown door. The birds didn’t seem to mind the drawling squeak, but had slightly startled up Chat Noir like an old cat.

The fresh country air filled the room with a natural aroma as well as a bright and chilly winter wind. Fields of grass blew in waves like an ocean and shook the leaves out of the trees. It was a wonderful feeling, especially with the light layer of snow beneath them.

Chat excitedly whispered to Ladybug. “On the count of three...”

“1...”

“2...”

“3!”

At once, they released the pair turtledoves up into the sky, healthy and free at last. Their wings beat against the strong winds, thriving, surviving. They took off, ready to explore the world once more in their former glory.

As they watched the birds disappear into the horizon, Ladybug’s head landed onto Chat Noir’s shoulder. “Hasn’t this day been wonderful?”

“Yes it has, m’lady.”

With the turtledoves completely gone, Xavier stepped inside, leaving the couple alone. They stared into each other’s eyes, their fingers stroking through one another’s hair. They were breathless, finally left in a moment of kissing to their heart’s desire.


	3. Faverolles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _On the third day of Christmas,  
>  my true love gave to me...  
> Three French hens._

Adrien rolled his fingers tapping against the living room table. His heart was racing. He could hardly focus on the Christmas music playing in the background. He checked his computer once more. Yup. It was the 27th, the third day of Christmas, and yup it was 6:45 p.m. A heavy groan ushered from his mouth as he pushed himself away from his wooden desk, his chair rolling away until it stopped at the couch.

Plagg popped another slice of camembert into his mouth. “Torture?”

Adrien sighed. “Very much so.”

“What if I told you I could sense Tikki for you?”

Adrien bit his lip. “Then I’d give you another slice of camembert.”

Plagg smirked. “Then cough it up.”

Adrien took notice of the flashing light, in the corner of his eye an irritatingly bright red. He heard the soft-spoken tenor voice of Emilie’s assistant, Meledisant. “Hey Mel,” he said, picking up the phone. As much as Adrien had a great distaste for the design of these phones placed across the house, he could still admire just how practical and useful they were, especially when compared to the typical phone found in offices. It was just a part of Mel’s magic he seemed to have around him which only grew during the holiday season.

“Your marvellous bodyguard just let in the Dupain-Chengs, please come down young master Adrien,” Meledisant cooed into the phone.

“Yeah, quite  _ miraculous.” _ Adrien’s heart that raced before now simply thumped, playing his chest like a drum. “And you are too, thank you for telling, Mel. I’ll be out in a jiffy.”

“Of course, Adrien. I’m looking forward to it.”

As they both hung up, Adrien flew out of his chair, helplessly spinning on his toes. It seemed to be a natural reaction of his from his early years of taking ballet lessons. He leapt out of his bedroom, spying three silhouettes painted against the curtain like a canvas. A rather tall and muscular man, a shorter figure with a bob signature to her own, and the shortest figure of the three with a pair of pigtails dangling from the sides of her head. Adrien

Meledisant was rattled, his eyes widened, but nevertheless glad to see his happiness. “Please calm down, Adrien. Come over here, your mother is next to the staircase here.”

Entering the view from Adrien’s blindspot, there Émilie peeked at him. A soft and loving smile warmer than any touch he had received from his father, but he couldn’t think about that now. His girlfriend was at his house. It felt unheard of. He felt spoiled, and that’s saying a lot about a boy who has a grand piano, a basketball court, and a rock-climbing wall in his room.

As he walked over, her divine outfit came into view, quite sleek with a flair of elegance both modern and vintage. Her jacket was black, double-breasted with golden buttons with a low-cut collar. Delicately ornamented with silver studs, a winter wonderland was portrayed across the skirt of her gown.

“Wow, you look gorgeous, mother!”

She looked down at him. “I could say the same for you in your tuxedo, my handsome boy.”

The Gorilla and Meledisant stood on either side of the entrance, the silver handles of the double doors in-hand and waiting. Slowly as the both of the men pulled, the Dupain-Cheng family walked in. Adrien couldn’t take his eyes off Marinette, his breath taken away. Her red gown, ornamented with lace and white faux fur glistening under the chandelier above them. As he offered him her hand, he twirled her, the dress raising and twirling right alongside her. 

“Oh Adrien,” she blushed as he had bowed to her, kissing her hand.

“M’Lady,” he replied. The shimmer of his green eyes enchanting her.

* * *

The dining table filled the great corridor of the house, fitting over twenty people with ease, yet only seven places set. Each plate was prepared with a starter of scallops and oysters, a generous helping of roast chicken, au gratin potatoes, individual spinach soufflés, croissants, and as well as each place setting having a mug of  _ chocolat chaud. _

Aside from the already prepared plates, more platters of food were scattered across the table. Aside from the absolutely delicious looking  _ chocolate bûche de noël, _ the note on the entrée in front of her was particularly eye-catching.

_ Le troisième jour de Noël,  _

_ mon amour m’a donné:  _

_ trois Faverolles… _

Marinette smiled. She should have figured this was how he was going to surprise her today, but yet all the same, she didn’t expect it at all. She glanced at the boy next to her, digging into his steaming hot soufflé. He looked like a dragon trying to cool down the piping food already in his mouth with his intense breathing. She shook off the thought of dragons, the memory from over a month ago of what the both of them had thought had merely been an akuma still haunted her.

He paused.  _ She was looking at him. _ He was caught red-handed. Actually, red-mouthed, considering his tongue was still numb. Nevertheless, a fool, but he was  _ her _ fool and that was what truly mattered. With a wink and an utterance of  _ ‘Cheers,’ _ they downed their hot chocolate together in some much-deserved peace, comfort, and joy.


	4. Colly Birds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _On the fourth day of Christmas,  
>  my true love gave to me...  
> Four colly birds._

There was a knock.

“Princess,” a familiar voice came through the walls.

Marinette took her view off her latest project, glancing across her room at her calendar. Her eyes scattered across the boxes, following the crossed out days, finally resting on the 28th, the fourth day of Christmas.

Placed firmly in-between her lips, she gave the sewing needle out delicately with her fingertips. Nearly holding it like a rapier, she backhandedly pointed it towards the door, a Freudian slip of where her attention was resting. “Come on in.”

With a creak of the hinges of the doors from her balcony, they swung open. His steps squeaked as slowly, his cat ears and a full head of bouncing blond hair came into perspective from behind her curtains.

All at once, she felt a contradictory rush of anxiety rattle in her bones with her confident backbone serving as her own guardian. “Hey, I’m sorry about this. I just need to clean up what I’m working on.”

Chat smiled. “Oh, it’s no big deal. I don’t suppose you’d like any help?”

“Would love it,” Marinette absent-mindedly mumbled, focusing once again on the fabric layered across the bodice of the mannequin before her. “Could you be a dear and fetch me the bag within my hope chest?”

Chat walked to the other side of the room, opening the heavy wooden flap on the chest. “Which one?”

Marinette came to a stop to process his words. “Excuse me?”

“There are two bags in here,” he said, raising his brow.

_ She had forgotten. There were indeed two bags. _ “Both.” A devilish grin ran across her face. “Both is good.”

He shook it off. “Of course.” He brought it where she was, placing both bags on her chaise.

“Ah.” She smirked. “You wouldn’t mind opening it for me, would you?”

He opened the first bag, which seemed rather standard. It was all of her sewing supplies. Needles, threads, fabrics, swatches, a few design books, and more all well-organized into separate compartments.

“You can hand that one to me,” she said, pulling it from his hands. “Although, take a peek into the next one for me.”

He peeled back the paper, pulling out a garment. “This looks cool, Marinette,” Chat Noir said, wide-eyed. He unfolded it revealing a jacket, in his size, too. The dark leather of the exterior of the jacket was cool to the touch from the December winds, yet when he felt the inside, it felt perfectly insulated with the smooth and soft sweatshirt fleece interior. He grinned at the use of one of his favourite comfort fabrics.

He looked at the back, not expecting much at first, but instantaneously took notice of the four fabriqués of blackbirds. Each one highlighted with an edge of white with a gradient fading outward from each one.

Brushing against the feathers as colly as coal with his fingertips, nostalgia pulsed through his memories. It always did when it came to feathers, reminiscing of what it felt like when he received his feather derby from Gabriel’s contest just two years before. As much as others may have found the entire concept of the bowler hats as ugly, he had an admiration of its unique vintage charm paired with Marinette’s undeniable talent. His fingers rubbed against the rough strand of string looped through the top buttonhole of the collar, giving a knowing smile when he saw that there had indeed been a note attached.

_ Le quatrième jour de Noël, _

_ mon amour m’a donné: _

_ quatre merles… _

Her smile radiated. “Give it a spin for me, why don’t you?”

Chat nodded, his arms firmly sliding the jacket on his arms, perfectly fitting to his body. He stepped across the floor, taking a peek in Marinette’s full-body mirror.

“That catwalk of yours knows no mercy.”

“I’m glad you think that,” he said with a wink. “Only the best of my modelling talents for one of the best fashion designers in all of Paris. Whaddya think of it?”

“Oh please,” she said, swatting his direction with a loose wrist, “I bet you say that to all of the fashion designers.” She turned, placing a careful hand on her chin in a thoughtful position. “And well, as much as I’d think you could rock a pillowcase if given the chance, I’d still like to think you look like a fine man in that jacket.” Her arms placed around his shoulders, entrapping him in her spell.

His arms reacted as a natural reflex, placing themselves around her waist. “You’re too modest on your own genius, Marinette.”

“Genius, you say?” She couldn’t blink. Her gaze fixated into his face as though she was a statue.

He leaned closer. “Indeed.” Some things are easier as statues. 

Especially when you’re already moulded in the same plaster of destiny.

Their lips met in a quick and silent frenzy.

As they pulled away, they spent a moment to recapture their breath.


	5. Rings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _On the fifth day of Christmas,  
>  my true love gave to me...  
> Five golden rings._

Marinette dug into her morning bowl of rice and eggs, a heaping spoonful of her breakfast soon entering her mouth. She stared out the window, admiring the morning sun and wind taking care of the December fog hovering over the city.

Sabine lovingly sighed, staring at her wedding band.

Tom clasped his hands over hers. “Ah, I still remember the day, as fresh as yesterday.”

She smiled, leaning into his side. “You, standing by that fountain in your tuxedo, kneeling down with this ring in your hand, handsome as ever.”

He held his wife in his arms. “And you, every bit as beautiful as you are now.”

Marinette smiled at her parents before checking her phone in anticipation. December 29th, 9:32 A.M., the fifth day of Christmas. “I have some friends to meet up with today. I love you mama, papa!”

Sabine cooed, “Have fun, sweetheart.”

“And don’t get into too much trouble,” Tom added.

“We’ll see,” Marinette said with a wink.

* * *

“Hey Félix!” Marinette said, waving at the boyfriend’s cousin.

“Hey Marinette. Any sign of Adrien? He hasn’t texted me anything yet.”

“That’s odd, I was about to ask you the same thing.”

“Ah, oh well.” Félix gave an anxious tug at the ring on his hand. “You know, the Graham de Vanily twin rings have been passed down through my family for generations.”

Marinette nodded. “Oh?”

“They’re such a blessing in our family. They connect the two wearers in an unexplainable way.”

She raised her brow. “Oh, so do you think they also cause the strong line of twins in your family?”

Félix cocked his head. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Ah, never mind.” Marinette smiled. “Though, I bet you’re glad if anyone is wearing the other ring, it’s her.”

“She’s wonderful.” He blushed, rubbing the back of his head. “A lot better than Gabriel if you ask me, for sure.”

Marinette gave a hearty laugh, soon interrupted by both of their phones pinging at once.

“That must be him,” Félix pulled out his phone.

“Oh, he’s around the corner by the fountain.”

Félix smiled. “You go on ahead, I’ll grab us a few sodas.”

Marinette’s brow furrowed, curious why he’d leave her alone all of a sudden. “Oh, alright.”

The boy turned around, and almost like an act of magic, seemingly disappeared.

She shook it off, walking away. Her mouth gaped, turning around the corner.

“Marinette,” Adrien called out to her. 

Her eyes were wide, catching the spectacle of the scene before her. “Adrien,” she murmured. Her eyes darted back and forth between his handsome suit and the majesty of the fountain and greenery surrounding him with last night’s snow still white on the ground from the night before.

“You mean a lot to me,” he said. “We’ve been through so much together. So I wanted to give you this ring, a promise ring.”

The gemstones reflected in the light. “It’s so beautiful. I can’t believe you did this for me.”She walked closer. As the box he held out to her came into better view as she stepped forward, she gasped, reading the note attached.

_ Le cinquième jour de Noël,  _

_ mon amour m’a donné:  _

_ cinq anneaux d’or… _

_ “The fifth ring,” _ she said under her breath. She gazed into his emerald green stare. “Adrien, I will promise to you that I will always stay by your side, that I will always love you and support you no matter what. Through thick and thin, I feel you are my soulmate and we are just meant to be. In other words, I do.”

“Marinette, I can’t believe I fell in love with such a wonderful girl like you twice and everyday it feels like I’m falling for her all over again. It’s like fate brought us together, but it’s my heart that knew you were the one, even if along the way I didn’t always realize it.”

“Oh, Adrien.”

“Marinette.”

Wrapped in each other’s arms, held tightly around one another, their vows felt bound in magic. In the comfort of their love, the world around them faded into a blur as they shared a kiss.


	6. The Library

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _On the Sixth day of Christmas,  
>  my true love gave to me...  
> Six geese-a-laying._

Finally finished with his modelling gig of the day, Adrien checked his phone. Only 11:07 A.M. on the 30th, the sixth day of Christmas. He smirked, headed to the library where he knew Ladybug would be. She was volunteering her morning reading to the children of Paris, a perfect way to surprise her with a cup of coffee after all her hard work.

Wearing some sunglasses, his feather bowler, and his new coat, he snuck in with a grey drink tray with two mochas. He checked the time again, waiting outside the children’s room of the library. As 11:30 hit, he was certain she was done as a flood of children released, excited they got to spend their morning with none other than the famous superhero who had taken down the villainous Hawkmoth.

He strode in, his footsteps silent against the soft carpet. With ease, he spotted his favourite lady, giving a tap on her shoulder. “Surprise, my wonderful Lady,” Adrien said as he tipped his cap to her.

She jumped. “Oh, Adrien it’s you!” She smiled, taking one of the cups.

They walked around the library, whispering sweet nothings to one another, browsing over the selection of books. He looked up, seeing at a book on display on a neighbouring shelf peeking at him. The book almost seemed to call to him. It was a simple book of fairytales, a Victorian-esque portrait of Mother Goose herself painted with a blue bonnet and a pink shawl, stepping through a gate attached to a white picket fence into a garden of tulips.

“This is just like the one my mom used to read to me as a child,” he spoke in a hushed tone.

The pages almost seemed to flip by themselves, each page carefully but quickly analyzed before being flipped to the next. Waves of nostalgia hit with each beautiful display of fierce wolves and bears, girls with golden locks and hoods as red as blood, and princes and princesses adventuring through their land.

As he turned to the last page of the book, he found a note waiting for him.

_ Le sixième jour de Noël,  _

_ mon amour m’a donné:  _

_ six oies pondeuses… _

You didn’t,” he said under his breath. He turned around, shocked with a basket of golden eggs held firmly in her arms.

“Perhaps  if I did?”

He rushed into her arms, hugging Ladybug tightly in his. “Then perhaps, you just put me in my feels.”

She giggled. “You’re so silly, my prince.” As they clung to each other, she couldn’t help but linger in the delicious aroma of cologne.


	7. Le Cygne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _On the seventh day of Christmas,  
>  my true love gave to me...  
> Seven swans-a-swiming._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wishing all of you wonderful Starlights a very happy New Year!

Ladybug sliced into the Bûche de Noël.

“Mind if I have a slice, m’lady?” Chat Noir asked with a smile plastered on his face.

“Of course, my kitty.” The slice of yule log, stabbed between the prongs of her fork, lifted in the air and tenderly landed in his mouth. She slowly pulled back as he began to chew.

They were in that same café they knew all too well. The one by the park they loved to take their evening strolls in. The place where they had their first date. It was morning on New Year’s Eve, the seventh day of Christmas.

After their dessert, they visited a familiar pond nearby. It was the same one where they had strolled in as their civilian selves, just hours before they knew their true identities. It was evening all the same and all the joy, wonder, and nostalgia from that night came rushing back to them. They were entranced in the buzzing of the bright blue street lamps, the rippling of the waters from the pond, the call of the swans swimming ever-so gracefully and elegantly before them. It was the serenade of the night.

It was alluring and beckoning all at once. They sat down together, on the ground. They could feel the silky cool grass between their fingers as they gazed up at the heavens before them, counting the stars. Chat Noir points to the pond, his eyes never breaking away from his precious Lady. “Let us try and see if we can find one of the crickets,” his hushed voice soothed and enchanted her.

“You remembered,” she said under her breathe with glee. “That sounds so fun.”

He offered his arm out to her as they walked down to the pond’s edge in an opening between the bulrushes so that the magnificent swans were still in their peripheral view.

After hunting, they finally found a cricket. Quietly, they spied on the talented creature, a suitor well-posed that could very well hold a long line. As he hopped away, Ladybug caught her eye on something that awaited her in the bullrushes. It was a wooden cricket. As she pulled on it, a string was revealed. At the other end, a note was attached.

_ Le septième jour de Noël,  _

_ mon amour m’a donné:  _

_ sept cygnes sur l’eau… _

“Oh Chat,” she cried. She fell into his arms with the toy in hand.

He booped her nose. “You finally found one that won’t hop away.”

She smirked. “You’re such a silly cat.”

“I would think of myself as romantic,  _ purrhaps _ charming? But I’ll take silly for now, m’lady.” He flashed his classic grin at her with a wink.

They ended the night spending it with their family, counting down the minutes until the New Year, and kissing at midnight.


	8. The Christmas Farm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _On the eighth day of Christmas,  
>  my true love gave to me...  
> Eight maids-a-milking._

A flash of orange appeared out of Marinette’s peripheral vision. “Girl! Over here”

Marinette looked around her surroundings. There was a simple structure of a pale grey brick, covered with vinery. Presumably, the barn. Near was a large tree that overshadowed a quaint house, more complex and well-designed made of a darker grey brick and topped with a wooden roof. To either side of her was a row of hedges that marked the boundaries of the farm. Although, particularly to her left, there were rows upon rows of hedges that grew taller and taller as it went on. It was nearly impossible to see the end beyond the first few rows, the twisting labyrinth it was. Marinette was in the French countryside, just dropped off by her parents. She was a tad late, as per usual, and all her friends had already started on the Christmas Farm tour.

Hearing her friend’s voice, she turned with an excited look on her face. “Alya! There you are. I’m so glad to see you. Have you seen Adrien? He was supposed to have met me at the entrance by the hedge maze, but I still can’t find him”

“I’m not too sure where a lot of people are, if I’m being honest with you. I wanted to keep a lookout for you as everyone else began the tour of the farm. I think he might be in the barn. Follow me.”

As they tromped onward, Marinette noticed how Alya’s orange scarf complemented her outfit down to her brown sheepskin boots.

“This is Basie,” Alya said, pointing to the row of stalls on the left wall. To their right was a large door meant for the animals to walk through and enter their tromping grounds. On the opposing side was a door that mirrored the one that they had walked through a moment before. The first stall had been the largest and quite easily seen as they walked through the door frame. 

Marinette raised her brow at the cow before her. “Oh? Hi Basie.”

Alya swatted the cow’s behind. “This is my cow to milk.”

“Watch it!” A piercing voice said.

“Kagami?” Alya and Marinette said in unison.

Alya raised her brow. “Did you come in from the south entrance?”

“Yes. I apologize for the tardiness. My mother had great difficulty in letting me come here.”

Alya assuringly swat her hand. “Yeah, don’t sweat it.”

Kagami looked at her. “I cannot control when I sweat and do not.”

Marinette looked up, a chalkboard sign catching her eye. It read  _ “Count Basie.” _ She turned her head to the right, seeing another sign in the next stall over.

There was an audible sound of milk going into the tin bucket. Kagami continued talking, “From what the farmer had told me, Basie is one of the elder animals of the farmyard.”

Alya brushed her fingers against the fur on Basie’s head. “Yeah, she’s even given birth to one of the other cows here. The boy bull was sold off to a neighbouring farm when he was old enough.”

“Oh? He didn’t tell me that part.”

“Yeah, that one was named Duke Ellington.”

“I think I’m going to go try and find Adrien,” Marinette timidly said.

Marinette walked over to the next stall. She saw Rose and Juleka were sharing a cow, dividing the udders amongst their hands, squeezing delicately into the silvery bucket below. She looked up and saw the name  _ “Sarah Vaughan” _ written on the chalkboard above.

“Hey Marinette,” Juleka said, not lifting her head. There was an audible squirt after.

Rose took her hand away from her work to wave. “Hi! I’m so glad you made it here safely.”

“Thank you! I just got a little lost on my way here.”

Rose nodded. “Yeah, my GPS told me to go on a one-way street I couldn’t go through. I had to reroute and find a different way.”

Marinette groaned. “Exactly! That was just a pain. Now, if you excuse me, I’m going to see if Adrien is further down.”

“Good luck,” Juleka said with a smile.

As she walked past Alix and Mylène’s stall, she read the name  _ “Billie Holiday” _ on the chalkboard above. They seemed too enamoured in their conversation about what seemed to be Christmas carols to notice her meekly “Hey.”

“Hello Marinette,” Chloé churned out before Marinette could read the sign at the next stall.

“Hey Sabrina, Chloé.”

Sabrina smiled. “We were just milking Ella Fitzgerald here. It’s kind of fun!”

Marinette huffed at Chloé, who was sitting on a blue stool with her phone out. “Sabrina, is Chloé even milking?”

“Oh, watch your tone with me, Dupain-Cheng. Just to let you know, I did in-fact do a little milking. The cow sprayed it’s funky warm milk on me! On my Louis Vuitton handbag, too. Ridiculous!”

_ “Udderly _ ridiculous?” Marinette whipped her head around, nearly getting whiplash. Her face glowed with excitement. She was delightfully welcomed with a familiar grin.

“Adrien!” Her arms wrapped around him. Her fingertips rushed their way through the hair on the back of his head.

When she pulled away, she saw a chalkboard behind him, about the size of a square metre. She recognized his same pristine handwriting inscribed in chalk across it.

_ Le huitième jour de Noël,  _

_ mon amour m’a donné:  _

_ huit femmes en train de traire… _

She kissed his cheek. “This farm is so cute and quaint and everyone is enjoying themself (except Chloé, but that’s predictable).”

Adrien blushed. “I got the idea to come here from Plagg, actually. This is the farm where Plagg’s camembert comes from.”

The little black cat peeked up from behind Adrien’s collar. “I heard my name and camembert in the same sentence.”

“Ah, the summoning ritual for this little demon, I see.” Marinette tickled Plagg’s chin as he began to purr.

They exited out the door behind him, following along a cobblestone path. He brought her to a wrought iron table, awaiting them with two chairs and a metal tray. There was a row of hedges near, presumably the other end of the hedge maze. He lifted the lid of the metal tray, revealing a lunch prepared for the two of them. There were fruity orange drinks, croissant sandwiches, and of course, one of Plagg’s new personal favourites, deep-fried camembert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I'm a music nerd. Sue me.   
> I was going to fit in that the bull on this farm was named Louis Armstrong, but this chapter was long enough as it was.


	9. The Nutcracker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _On the ninth day of Christmas,  
>  my true love gave to me...  
> Nine dancers dancing._

That morning, Marinette dressed herself in her baby pink tutu. Delicately lacing the silky ribbon around her legs, she put on her slippers. She frolicked down the stairs, greeted by the faces of her family. Her father, her mother, her grandfather, her grandmother, all danced around her in the joy of the Christmas festivities. Hand-in-hand, they encircled the Christmas tree in their living room. Each in a graceful plié.

It was her turn to open her gift. She could feel the magical energy radiating from it. She gave the box a soft and gentle shake, trying to tell what may perhaps have been in it. She smiled. There was a note attached.

_ Le neuvième jour de Noël, _

_ mon amour m’a donné: _

_ neuf danseurs dansant… _

She furiously opened the wrapping paper. Left and right, the ribbon and box and paper flew behind her shoulders. All that was left now was the gift. It was the nutcracker itself.

The floor beneath them began to rumble and her family seemed to all but fade away. The tree before her grew taller and taller. It emerged from the floorboards as if it had been hiding the rest of the branches in the bakery down below. She danced vivaciously in the shock and anticipation. It should have crashed through the roof by now, yet it didn’t. The room adapted alongside it, morphing and changing. All of time was lost from her grasp. As the room’s trembles came to a halt, so did she. She dared not open her eyes. 

The energy surrounding her in the air felt good and pure, yet all too good to be true. Whisked away, she nearly screamed from the shock. Bewildered and relieved all at once, her eyes were greeted with a familiar face as they opened up wide. It was the Nutcracker himself. She admired his charm, his looks, and took note of his hair that seemed to be a divine gift from the rays of light from the sun. It was as though his essence was simply that of purity and of the light of day.

Before she knew it, he was gone. Yet, she continued on with her dance, reminiscing his magnificence.

Taken aback, the music had changed. So had her partner. There was something eerily and enchantingly familiar about this new man before her. She eyed him up and down from his boots, to his jabot, to his mask and pointed ears that poked through his hair atop his head. With his offering hand, she dared take it. Their dance was something new, but she could feel like it had been with an old friend all along. Her fingers stroked through his blond hair. To the smooth silky touch, each strand was like its own moonbeam. The Cat Prince had the essence of decadence and the dark of night. 

Lost, she reminisced about the Cat Prince upon his disappearance. All like a dream, a mirage she longed to recapture. She continued on with her dance as fog in which fog began to brew around her.

In the dark of night and the light of day, she was entranced with both of what had felt like her mystery lovers. The men she was enchanted by seemed to dance with one another. To the beat of the music, the two men’s footsteps were in sync. The Nutcracker and the Cat Prince held both of her hands, hand-in-hand-in-paw. In the confusion of these men, she was estranged in nothing but her own emotions. The Nutcracker and the Cat Prince were one. How could she not have seen it? How did she not know? What was stopping her besides herself, all along?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to give a big thank you to my friend Sydney for inspiring this fic! My original intention with this was a lot less abstract, like Ladybug and Chat Noir going to watch _The Nutcracker._ But when she said, “I raise you, them _as The Nutcracker,_ like Clara and the prince,” that simply changed everything.


	10. Renaissance Fair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _On the tenth day of Christmas,  
>  my true love gave to me...  
> Ten lords-a-leaping._

Gazing out from the indoor balcony, Ladybug was enamoured with the sheer size of the ballroom. From one wall to another, she looked down to the floor below began to usher in the lords and ladies of the night. Each one wore historical garb from various points in history. She looked again at the room in awe From floor to ceiling, the height left her with no other choice but to gap her mouth at the height. The ceiling itself was a painting, one end to the other, decorated at the sides with an ornate bronze frame. Though it was obvious where one point of the wallpaper started and ended of the so-called painting, it was beautiful and endearing nonetheless.

Ladybug looked over the ballroom at the night’s many patrons, including her own parents. Tom had been sporting some golden Elizabethan Era pumpkin pants and a matching cape. Sabine wore a gown with sleeves that puffed from her shoulder down to her wrists as her neck was ornamented in a frivolous frill.

She giggled as she saw the Bourgeois family take to it as well. It seemed they were in love more now than ever. Though their relationship had been improving tremendously with one another, Audrey was the same headstrong woman she ever was. Even when it came to dancing. She enjoyed pushing her weight around as one does, which inevitably led to their silent, yet obvious, bickering of who would be taking the lead between them.

“How are you doing, M’Lady?” Adrien’s voice whispered in her ear behind her.

She turned to look at him. “You nearly startled me.” She eyed him up and down. He wore a double-breasted frock coat paired with a cotton jabot.

“What do you think?” he asked as he spun around for her.

She tilted her head and gave it a little thought. “I have to say, I’m rather impressed, but I expect no less from an Agreste,” she said with a wink.

“I’m glad you think that.” Adrien smiled at her. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a cuboidal dark wood box. “I hope you’ll be rather pleased with this too.”

Ladybug slowly edged her hands closer and closer to it, not fully expecting what it could possibly have been. She took a firm gulp as she lifted the lid, separating the box into two. She gasped with glee at the sight.

As she lifted up the enchanting white rose from the velvet lining, she took a moment to smell its sweet fragrance. She noticed something dangle that had been tied to her corsage. It was a small silk ribbon of the same white colour. Attached at the other end, she glanced down at the paper to find writing in an elegant copperplate calligraphy.

_ Le dixième jour de Noël,  _

_ mon amour m’a donné:  _

_ dix seigneurs sauteurs… _

As Ladybug looked up once more, she was met with Adrien’s emerald green stare and an offering hand. “May I have this dance?”

With a petite smile, she placed her hand into his firm yet gentle grasp. An affirmative and silent exchange, they subtly nodded their heads. Hand-in-hand, they gracefully walked down the grand staircase and took to the floor with the rest of the lords and ladies of the evening. 


End file.
